


Candlelit

by Julia_Fractal



Category: Daredevil (TV), The Defenders (Marvel TV)
Genre: BDSM, College, Cooking, Developing Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Falling In Love, Femdom, Light Bondage, Overstimulation, Porn with Feelings, Safe Sane and Consensual, Temperature Play, Wax Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2019-06-25 14:01:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15642210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Julia_Fractal/pseuds/Julia_Fractal
Summary: *~*~*The bead of liquid wax trembles for a moment on the tip of the candle before succumbing to the pull of gravity and plummeting down.  Matt hisses as the hot wax hits his skin, a bright flare of pleasure/pain that makes his whole body come alive.*College-era: Matt and Elektra celebrate their new relationship.*~*~*





	Candlelit

**Author's Note:**

> Filling half of my own [prompt](https://daredevilkink.dreamwidth.org/8773.html?thread=18634309#cmt18634309) on the Daredevil Kink Meme. "Would love to see some kinky Matt/Elektra where she's the one dominating him. Wax/temperature play where Matt is almost pushed to his breaking point. And/or knife play where Elektra cuts him out of his clothes with her sai.”

*~*~*

Every date with Elektra is eye-opening in an entirely different way. This week had kicked off with a New York Philharmonic concert, where Matt had held her hand as the strains of Shostakovich’s Fifth Symphony rolled over him like a tidal wave. The next night they broke into the dean’s office just to sample his whiskey, followed by a _very_ memorable skinny dip in Columbia’s Olympic-sized swimming pool.  
  
Tonight is their two month anniversary, and Elektra has booked them a table at _Chez Laurent_. Matt hadn’t thought anything of it until he casually mentions the restaurant to Foggy, and practically hears his roommate’s heart hammer out of his chest in astonished excitement.  
  
“ _Chez Laurent_?” Foggy repeats. “As in the fourth chef in all of New York City to ever earn three Michelin stars? As in the guy who regularly feeds world leaders and celebrities and you’ll probably need to cross your fingers for six months to get a reservation even if you’re rich enough to afford it?”  
  
“How do you know all this?” Matt asks in surprise.  
  
“My rich aunt tried to book an anniversary dinner there too. She never got in even though she tried for three years running. Still gripes about it every Christmas and Thanksgiving.”  
  
“Oh,” Matt answers, lost for words as he plunks down on his bunk. “How much exactly are we talking about?”  
  
Foggy shrugs, “Don’t know for sure, places that fancy don’t list their menu prices on the internet. But I figure a nice dinner for two with wine pairing would probably cost more than our rent.”  
  
Matt knows that relationships aren’t about keeping score, but the working class boy in him can’t help feeling guilty whenever Elektra lavishes him with things he can’t afford. Not when he has nothing to offer in return except his perfectly ordinary self. Besides, Elektra’s already given him so much in other ways. Whenever they’re together Matt can feel his horizons expanding, can feel whole new vistas opening inside himself.  
  
There are certain words he shouldn’t be saying eight weeks into a new relationship. But Matt can’t help thinking them every time they stagger out of the boxing ring together, literally punch drunk and grinning like loons. Every time he wakes up beside her and feels her lashes flutter as he kisses her awake. Words like love, and soulmate, and forever.  
  
“Cheer up man,” Foggy says, clapping a hand on Matt’s shoulder and bringing him back to the present. “Enjoy the perks of having a super-rich girlfriend that mere mortals like me will never know. Just promise you’ll sneak me back an appetizer in your pocket, okay?”  
  
To both Elektra and Foggy’s chagrin, Matt insists on canceling the whole thing.   
  
“I’m really, really sorry,” he tells Elektra over the phone. “I know you wanted to do something special for tonight, but this is just too much for me to accept. Foggy told me it’s incredibly hard to get a reservation, so please go without me.” Damn it, he’s supposed to be a future lawyer and good with words.  
  
“You want me to eat our anniversary dinner without you,” Elektra repeats flatly, and Matt wants to shrivel up on the spot. No one would blame her if Elektra decides to break up over this.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Matt tries again. “It feels like a matter of principle not to let you pay for everything. But the best I can mange right now would be an IOU, payable in two to five years when I become a rich, successful lawyer.”  
  
“Matthew, when are you going to learn that you’re worth more than anything money can buy?” Elektra says, sounding equally exasperated and fond. “I’ll cancel the reservation if it makes you uncomfortable. Come to my place at 6:00, we’ll dine in instead.”

  
  
*~*~*

  
“Wow,” Matt says the instant he steps into Elektra’s penthouse.  
  
The apartment is usually minimalist and spartan, but tonight candles blazed on every surface. Matt doesn’t need sight to know that Elektra is radiant by candlelight, to picture the flickering highlights in her hair and the mischevious gleam in her eyes.  
  
“They say that candles are good for ambience,” Elektra tells him. “I may have overdone it a little.”  
  
“No, it’s perfect,” Matt says as he bends down to kiss her hello. The warmth of the room makes it easier for him to drink in her heady scent, and Matt greedily steals two more kisses before remembering to present his gift.  
  
“Happy anniversary, sweetie,” he says as he hands her the orchid, hoping the plant hasn’t been crushed by their embrace. The florist described the flowers as deep red with a yellow center, the color of passion and courage.  
  
“Thank you, they’re beautiful! I know it’s silly to call two months of dating an anniversary, but I’m still glad we’re marking the occasion.” Matt hears a rare note of hesitancy in Elektra’s voice. Maybe she’s just as new to all of this as he is.  
  
Beyond the candlelit living room, Elektra’s kitchen is overflowing with ingredients. Matt can smell three different types of fish, clams, white wine, various herbs and a dozen other things he can’t even name.   
  
Elektra lobs a bundle of fabric at him, and Matt effortlessly snatches it out of the air. His fingers trace the embroidered words ‘Kiss the chef,’ and Matt pulls on the apron with a grin.   
  
“What are all the ingredients for?”  
  
“ _Bouillabaisse_ — it’s a French seafood stew from Marseilles. Since you won’t let me spoil you properly in a restaurant, you can earn your meal by being my _sous_ chef. I do hope you’re good with a knife.”  
  
Matt’s cooking skills usually extended to coffee, toast, and hotplate ramen. He’s definitely out of his depth here, but that’s nothing new around Elektra and Matt loves rising to her challenges. “I’m certainly willing to learn,” Matt tells her as he picks up the chef’s knife.   
  
They spend the next hour busily washing, chopping, and prepping. Fortunately Elektra turns out to be an excellent cook and an even better teacher, although some of her instructional methods could be a tad distracting. She stands _very_ close behind Matt as she teaches him how to make a tarragon _chiffonade._ Her hands guiding his along the cutting board, her breasts softly pressing against his back with every breath.  
  
Elektra pops the champagne as soon as the pot hits the stove. Matt feels as bubbly as the beverage he’s drinking, stealing kisses and caresses as Elektra stirs the stew. His mouth starts watering 15 minutes into the cooking process, but Elektra insists it’s far from ready. She keeps adding ingredients in a precise order, tasting and adjusting seasonings until she’s finally satisfied with the results. Matt stands back and marvels at the way all the aromas slowly blend together, twenty-odd ingredients gradually melding into a decadent whole.   
  
“ _Bon appetit_!” Elektra says just before they both dig in. Matt groans in ecstasy at the first bite, and Elektra bursts out laughing.  
  
“I’ve never heard you make that sound outside of the bedroom.”  
  
“I’ve never tasted anything this good!” Miraculously the stew tastes even better than it smells, the rich creaminess of the broth highlighting the salty tang of the ocean, a symphony of flavors bursting on his tongue with every bite.  
  
However, Elektra has higher standards in cuisine, and Matt hopes he’s met her expectations. “How did I do?” he asks. He might have slowed her down as much as he’d helped, but Matt certainly enjoyed the learning process.  
  
“I wouldn’t recommend quitting law school for the culinary arts, but you did remarkably well for your first time.” Elektra reaches across the table to take his hand, her voice suddenly low and earnest, “We make a good team Matthew.”  
  
“Yeah we do,” Matt answers with a smile. “Man, poor Foggy would be so jealous. Would you believe that when we were scheduled to go to _Chez Laurent_ , he actually asked me to —”  
  
“Matthew, could you please stop mentioning your roommate so irritatingly often?” Elektra snaps, and Matt is stung by the sharpness of her tone. _‘Where had_ that _come from?’_ he wonders. Come to think of it, Elektra has never interacted with Foggy beyond a quick greeting on their way out the door. Never shown any interest in getting to know the other people in his life…  
  
“I’m sorry Matthew,” Elektra says, all the sharpness evaporating out of her voice. “I have nothing against your friends, it’s just that I’d rather focus on _us_ during the time we’re together.”  
  
Elektra refills their champagne flutes, and Matt lets go of his unease as she clinks her glass against his, “To _bouillabaisse_!"  
  
“To _bouya_ … to fancy French stew,” Matt seconds, “And to us!”  
  
“So, what would you like for dessert tonight?” Elektra asks, and something in her tone tells Matt she’s not talking about _creme brulee_.  
  
Matt considers the question carefully, enjoying the moment of anticipation. Sex is pretty much a given, but Elektra still likes to make him work for it. Sometimes that means wresting control from her, proving he can match her strength for strength. Sometimes it means a temporary surrender, and entrusting his body and soul to her deviously clever plans. Tonight he’s almost certain that she already has something in mind. All he needs to do is say yes.  
  
“I’ll go with whatever the chef recommends,” Matt answers as he tugs her down into his lap. They share a slow and lingering kiss, Elektra’s tongue licking into his mouth as his hands tangle in her hair.  
  
“You know, candles can be used for more than ambience,” Elektra muses as they pull apart. She leans over him to swipe her finger through the nearest flame, and Matt feels a delighted shiver run down his spine. “Have you ever tried temperature play, Matthew?”  
  
“No, but I’d really like to,” Matt answers, and dives in to kiss her again.  
  
This kiss is far from languid, and Matt feels the exact instant they both shift from anticipation to action. Elektra’s nimble fingers make short work of Matt’s shirt buttons and belt while he practically rips the clothes off her body. Matt allows Elektra one quick moment to grab a candle and the champagne bucket before sweeping her naked body into his arms, laughing and kissing as they make the short trip to her bedroom.

  
*~*~*

  
  
“Can I put you in the cuffs tonight?” Elektra asks as they tumble onto her bed.  
  
“Of course,” Matt answers, “Just let me do this first.” Matt settles both hands on Elektra and does one long, luxurious sweep down the length of her body. His hands slide past her shoulders, breasts, waist and hips, landing on her delectable ass. Once there, Matt takes the opportunity to haul her forward until Elektra giggles and tips up against him.   
  
“Mmm, we should definitely pick this up again later,” she purrs in his ear, “But right now I’m going to have my wicked way with you.”  
  
Elektra kisses each of his wrists before strapping him into the cuffs, her lips soft and tender over his fluttering pulse. She’s careful to leave two finger widths worth of slack in each cuff, ensuring that Matt’s circulation won’t be cut off even if he struggles. The cuffs securing him to Elektra’s headboard are made of leather and lined in silk. They remind Matt of the ensemble he just stripped off of her — leather pants over silk lingerie, and the gift of her warm skin beneath.  
  
“Remember that green light means go, and orange means slow down. Red is your safe word and everything stops instantly.”  
  
“I remember,” Matt assures her, “Feel free to start any time.” Matt punctuates his statement with a wriggle against her silk sheets, and Elektra laughs fondly as she raises the candle high above him.  
  
The bead of liquid wax trembles for a moment on the tip of the candle before succumbing to the pull of gravity and plummeting down. Matt hisses as the hot wax hits his skin, a bright flare of pleasure/pain that makes his whole body come alive.  
  
Elektra gives him a few moments to adjust, rubbing gentle circles over his stomach, wordlessly reminding him to breathe and center. Then she lets three more waxy drops fall in quick succession, painting a graceful arc along his collar bones.  
  
“How does that feel?” Elektra asks. Her fingers dance lightly over his chest — enjoying the view or choosing her next target?  
  
“Hot,” Matt answers with a cheeky grin.  
  
“Don’t be a smartass!” she admonishes him with a light smack against his hip. “How do you feel about what we’re doing?”  
  
Matt already knows how to endure straightforward pain, but this sort of pain coupled with pleasure is something he’s only explored with Elektra. Something he’d been craving for years without realizing it, until she gave his desires a name and brought them out into the light.  
  
“There’s nowhere in the world I’d rather be,” Matt tells her honestly, “Green light all the way.”  
  
Elektra lays a trail of burning wax down the center of his chest, then follows alongside it with her tongue. Soon she scratches off the wax with her fingertips, baring his pink and flushed skin for more.  
  
“We’re ruining your nice, expensive sheets,” Matt points out belatedly.  
  
“I have a spare set, and this is definitely worth it,” Elektra tells him. “You make a gorgeous picture, spread out just for me. Like a pornographic Jackson Pollock.”  
  
Matt blushes at the compliment and arches up for more. He once read somewhere that skin is arguably the largest sex organ in the body, and at the moment he certainly believes it. Elektra has a talent for finding the most sensitive parts of his anatomy. Soon hot wax finds its way into the crook of his elbows and the rim of his bellybutton. She pinches his nipples between her clever fingers and traces them with her tongue, making sure they’re at peak sensitivity before letting the wax fall. When hot paraffin lands between his toes Matt bucks against his restraints and yells himself hoarse. She quickly soothes him with her soft voice and gentle kisses, carding her fingers through his hair until Matt regains some semblance of calm.  
  
“Do that again!” Matt demands as soon as he can speak again.  
  
“Yes, darling,” Elektra answers with a delighted chuckle and happily complies.  
  
Through it all Matt can’t help tracking the movement of the candle through the air, his muscles tensing involuntarily before each drop strikes. Most of the time he guesses right, but occasionally Elektra catches him off guard — distracting him with teasing touches elsewhere or tricking him with a deft flick of her wrist.  
  
“You’re still holding onto control,” Elektra whispers against his skin. “Trust me and surrender yourself to sensation.”  
  
Matt breathes deep and anchors himself, lets the sensations flow through without overwhelming him entirely. But Elektra always starts the next round before he can fully recover, driving him higher and higher, piling on sensation after sensation until Matt’s writhing and gasping, floating on a cloud of endorphins and never wanting to come back down.  
  
Their game reaches a whole new level when Elektra dips into the champagne bucket and brings ice into the equation. She runs the ice cube all over Matt’s body, but never lets it linger. Instead of numbing him, the brief kiss of cold only emphasizes how hot his skin has become, and how the heat of the flame burns hotter still. Elektra trails a blazing line of heat up his right thigh and simultaneously runs an icy rivulet down his left thigh. Ice and fire meld together in Matt’s senses, creating an icy heat that ignites his nerve endings and leaves him gasping for more.  
  
But more than heat, more than ice, Matt is craving the touch of Elektra’s skin. As if reading his thoughts, Elektra suddenly lays the full length of her body directly on top of him. Matt practically levitates off the bed as he surges up to meet her, moaning shamelessly into Elektra’s open mouth.  
  
Much sooner than he’d like, Elektra pulls away and sits back, her lithe body cradled between Matt’s open legs. Delicately she reaches forward and encircles the base of his cock with her thumb and forefinger, while her remaining three fingers gently lift up his balls. The candle is still burning bright in her other hand.   
  
“Now tell me Matthew,” Elektra asks him teasingly, “What shall I do with this?”  
  
Surely she can’t mean to burn him _there_ , is Matt’s natural first reaction. He knows that he could stop everything with a single word, yet he doesn’t want to. He trusts Elektra with his safety, with his life, and he’d rather see just how far she could push him than cling to the shores of safety.  
  
“Anything you want,” Matt gasps out, “I trust you, I love you.”  
  
There’s a moment of shocked silence as those last three words hang in the air. Matt knows that this is not the optimal time for a first confession of love, but the words are true and he has no intention of taking them back.  
  
“I love you too, Matthew,” Elektra whispers, gently cradling his face in her hands and kissing him breathless. Matt has never felt so cherished and so loved as he does in this moment.   
  
He hears a soft puff of air as Elektra blows out the candle and sets it aside. Then an entirely different type of heat engulfs him as Elektra’s mouth descends on his cock. Matt grunts in surprise and bucks his hips involuntarily, feeling so incredibly good that he wouldn’t mind dying this very instant.   
  
It takes every ounce of discipline Matt has to still his hips and make it last. He wants to savour the feel of Elektra over and around him, her hands anchoring his hips, her heartbeat calling to his. He _needs_ to do a hundred sinful things to her in gratitude and retaliation the instant his hands are out of those damn cuffs.  
  
Matt breathes deep and surrenders to the moment. After all, their night is just beginning.

  
*~*~*

**Author's Note:**

> This fic evolved from a simple PWP to a snapshot of Matt/Elektra late in their college romance, and I'm really happy with how everything turned out. Thanks so much for reading! Kudos and comments make me do a happy dance :)


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